


Blue and Gold

by paperstorm



Series: Velvet [1]
Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bottom Chris, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Oscars 2019, POV Chris Evans, Romance, the blue velvet jacket of our dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 18:45:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17924282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: “Did you wear velvet for him?” Scott asks, pushing the toe of his shoe into Chris’s shin bone. “I know he has like 30 velvet suits. Did he ask you to wear a velvet jacket the color of his eyes so he could secretly claim you on national television?”





	Blue and Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Who else's life was completely destroyed by Chris at the Oscars last night?? Should we start a support group. Writing smut was my form of therapy lol enjoy :)

It’s ridiculous-o’clock in the morning by the time Chris finally collapses into the back of a limo with Scott. He winces immediately – he should’ve sat down a lot more gracefully. The toy presses into him, moving around as he shifts like it has been all night, bumping against the sensitive walls inside, slick with the mess Sebastian had left in him well over 12 hours ago. Chris very definitely should not have agreed to his. He should’ve said no, or  _are you insane_ , or  _fuck you for even suggesting it_  when Sebastian had floated the idea past him in his fake innocent voice with those big blue eyes blinking at him that he  _knows_ Chris can’t resist. He knows it and he uses it to his advantage, and now Chris is sitting in a limo with his brother and a plug up his ass. He walked a red carpet and stood on a stage and spoke into a microphone and was probably on camera all night long because he was front and center, and he  _thinks_ he held it together well enough, but he won’t know until he sees the footage. If he didn’t, if he was squirming in his seat even though he’d fought desperately not to, and people figure out why, he’s done for. He’ll never be invited to anything ever again.  
   
His only saving grace is that it’s just a regular plug, and not the kind that vibrates to the command of a remote, because Sebastian  _has_ one of those and has used it on Chris in public more than once. Sebastian would have had to hang out all night in the alley behind the venue for the remote to be in range, is likely the only reason he didn’t go with that one this time, and not because he wouldn’t have enjoyed turning it up while Chris was presenting just to watch him sweat and then later pretend it had been an accident. He’s a menace sometimes.  
   
“I’m happy I’m not as famous as you,” Scott is saying next to him. “Those things are fun but they’re exhausting, I need to sleep for a full day.”  
   
“Yeah,” Chris agrees. He squeezes his molars together to keep quiet as they go over a speedbump. He’s been half hard for hours, to the point that it stopped feeling good so long ago he can’t remember if it ever did. He’s tired, too, but also on edge and strung out, his skin prickling against his clothes and his hands shaking a little. He clenches them so Scott won’t notice. He’d thought so many times about sneaking off to the bathroom and jerking off into a handful of toilet paper just to take the razor-sharp edge off, but Sebastian told him not to, and Chris is so bad at lying. He wants to be good, wants to make Sebastian happy, but he also wants this thing out of him and he wants achieve the orgasm that’s been bubbling under the surface the entire day and night and then he, too, wants to sleep for an entire day. Maybe wake up after a 24-hour nap and fuck Sebastian until he cries to get him back for this.  
   
He looks up, and Scott’s looking at him with raised eyebrows, and Chris realizes far too late that he must have said something.  
   
“Uh, sorry, what?”  
   
“I asked if you’re okay. You’re like. All pale and sweaty.”  
   
“It’s hot in here,” Chris tries as an excuse.  
   
Scott frowns. “No, it isn’t. Are you drunk?”  
   
“You were with me all night, when would I have gotten drunk without you noticing?” Chris had all of two glasses of champagne, which he doesn’t even like, and then cut himself off because he gets affectionate when he’s drunk and if he’d started hanging all over people with his dick not entirely soft in his pants it would have been bad news all around.  
   
Scott is still staring at him, and the car hits another bump and Chris grimaces and closes his eyes and shifts, trying to find a more comfortable position. He’d been sitting for hours in the theater but something about the softness of the limo seats is pushing the plug right up against his prostate. If it keeps rubbing the way it is without any relief Chris is going to lose it in his boxers in a car in front of his brother and even as close as they are, Chris doesn’t think there would be any coming back from that.  
   
“Dude, what is wrong with you?” Scott asks.  
   
“Nothing,” Chris grunts, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood.  
   
“Oh my God,” Scott says, after another minute of staring.  
   
When Chris looks back at him, Scott’s eyes are wide and focused on Chris’s lower half.  
   
“Are you …” Scott looks back up at him. “No fucking way.”  
   
“What?” Chris asks defensively. He’s got his jacket off and draped over his lap, so even though he  _is_ pitching a tent in his pants, Scott shouldn’t be able to see it.  
   
“It was the fucking _Oscars_. Oh my God.”  
   
“What are you talking about?” Chris snaps, going cold under his skin because Scott  _can’t_ have figured it out.  
   
He has, though. His eyes shine maniacally as he asks, “You’ve got a fucking plug in you, don’t you?”  
   
Whatever color that was left in Chris’s face drains out of it. “What? No!”  
   
His voice comes out in an undignified squeak, and Scott collapses into full-bodied laughter. He tips his head back against the seats and shakes with it.  
   
“Chris!” he yells.  
   
“Keep your voice down,” Chris hisses at him.  
   
“Chris it’s the  _Oscars_!” Scott says again, ignoring him and still being entirely too loud. “I know you and the kid get up to some kinky shit but you let him plug you to go to the  _Oscars_? When you knew you’d have to get up on a stage?”  
   
“He’s not a kid, he’s older than you,” Chris points out, latching onto that part of it because he can’t deal with the rest of it. The color is back in his face; he can tell from the way his cheeks are burning that he’s bright red.  
   
“I know, but he has a puppy face.” Scott looks back at him, and shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear and enjoying this far too much. “Fucking. I can’t believe you. I can’t believe I stood next to you and sat next to you all fucking night like that.”  
   
“I haven’t even admitted anything!”  
   
Because the universe is against him, the car hits yet another pot hole and Chris swears loudly this time and clenches his hands into fists on his thighs.  
   
Scott cracks up all over again. “It has been a  _long_  day. I don’t know how you’re still conscious. And I literally can’t believe you let him do that. You’re really that whipped, huh?”  
   
“Fuck off,” Chris mutters.  
   
“No, I get it, he’s hot. What’s your plan for payback? Make him wear a cage to his next audition?”  
   
“I don’t even know how to answer that question.” Chris unballs his fists and squeezes his fingers into the meat of his thighs.  
   
“Did you wear velvet for him?” Scott asks, pushing the toe of his shoe into Chris’s shin bone. “I know he has like 30 velvet suits. Did he ask you to wear a velvet jacket the color of his eyes so he could secretly claim you on national television?”  
   
“He didn’t ask me to.”  
   
“You wore it for him, though, right? ‘Cause you knew he’d like it?”  
   
Sighing about it, Chris admits, “yes.”  
   
He isn’t nearly as embarrassed about that part of it. Sebastian does have a thing for velvet, and silk, and other soft, luxurious fabrics. Chris had kept his outfit a secret until he got dressed this afternoon, and he’d made a very good choice, judging by the look on Sebastian’s face when he’d come out of the bedroom to model his suit. Sebastian had kissed him so deeply Chris was left off-balance by it, and on his way out the door Sebastian had darkly promised he would wreck that jacket when Chris got home.  
   
“That’s very sweet,” Scott relents. “The butt plug, not so much.”  
   
“Shut up.”  
   
“I will literally never shut up about this.”  
   
“If you tell anyone,” Chris threatens.  
   
Scott rolls his eyes. “Come on. You know I wouldn’t.”  
   
The limo slows, rolling up outside the hotel where Scott is staying. Chris had offered his spare bedroom, but Scott is flying back to New York early tomorrow and Chris’s house is a long way from the airport and Scott hadn’t wanted to fight the Monday morning traffic. At present, Chris is really glad Scott didn’t take him up on that offer. Certain things Chris knows are going to happen when he gets home would have been awkward with his brother in the next room.  
   
“This was fun,” Scott says, clapping Chris on the shoulder. “I enjoyed being your date.”  
   
“Yeah. Me too.”  
   
“In retrospect the night is a little ruined now that I know you were being fucking, uh, stimulated, the whole damn time,” Scott quips, with another snicker.  
   
“I’m never speaking to you again,” Chris tells him, as Scott climbs out of the car.  
   
“Love you too!” he yells over his shoulder as he makes his way up the drive and through the revolving doors.  
   
Chris slouches in his seat and rests his head on the back of it and swears again, to himself this time. He closes his eyes and has to shove his hands into his pockets to keep them from drifting toward his crotch and relieving the pressure with a squeeze or two. He could. But Sebastian told him not to.  
   
It feels like a small eternity by the time the limo pulls up in Chris’s driveway. He’d tried to think about kittens or ice cream or baseball but instead his brain had supplied him with all kinds of unhelpful images and worked him up in anticipation of what’s waiting for him. He’s so lucky it’s the middle of the night. He’d be arrested for public indecency if anyone saw him walking around with what’s now nearly a full erection. He thanks the limo driver in a scratchy voice and tries not to run the distance between the curb and his front door. He’s greeted by Dodger first, bouncy and happy to see him and Chris feels almost dirty petting him right now.  
   
Sebastian appears at the end of the hall, shirtless with tight jeans sitting low on his hips and a pretty smirk on his mouth. “Hey there, handsome.”  
   
Chris tries to respond but his lips can’t remember how to form words. He just groans and leans back against the door, bringing shaking hands up to his face.  
   
Sebastian clicks his tongue sympathetically as he approaches. He takes Chris’s hips in his hands and ducks in to lick Chris’s neck, one long, hot stripe from the hollow of his throat all the way to his ear.  
   
“Fun night?” he whispers, nuzzling his nose underneath Chris’s ear.  
   
“Fuck,” Chris supplies as an answer.  
   
“I watched,” Sebastian says. “Boring, as usual. God, you looked good, though.”  
   
“Thanks.” Chris means that, but it comes out sounding sarcastic.  
   
“You were trending on Twitter,” Sebastian tells him.  
   
“Why?”  
   
“‘Cause you were out there offering your arm to a damsel like a real life knight in shining armor.” His nose moves to the underside of Chris’s jaw, running through his beard. Sebastian steps in a little closer, pushing one foot in between Chris’s, leaning against him. Chris knows he’ll be able to feel it against his thigh, how turned on Chris already is. “No idea how much I wanted to post something about how you’re  _my_ knight in shining armor. The rest of the world can swoon over you all they want but I’m the one you come home to.”  
   
“All yours,” Chris promises him. He feels as drunk as Scott had briefly accused him of being in the car. He’s dizzy, and Sebastian hasn’t even kissed him.  
   
Sebastian’s left hand slides around to the back of Chris, cupping an ass cheek and then pressing two fingers, through Chris’s pants, against the hard plastic that’s holding him open. The plug slides further inside, and hits Chris’s prostate again.  
   
“Oh shit,” Chris breathes, his head falling back against the wood of the door with a loud thunk and a dull bloom of pain in his skull.  
   
Sebastian hums into his throat. “How’s this doin’?”  
   
“Fuck, Seb, I can’t,” Chris babbles. His skin feels like it’s on fire where Sebastian’s lips are moving against it. “You gotta … all fucking day, moving around in me, I was sitting there trying not to be obvious about it but for all I know I was fucking drooling, I can’t, please.”  
   
“What d’you want, sweetheart?” Sebastian kisses Chris’s chin, and his tongue darts out to lick the inside of Chris’s upper lip; still not quite a kiss but adjacent enough to it that Chris is instantly hungry for another.  
   
“Fucking, take it out and fuck me, or push it further in and get me off with it, I don’t care,  _something_.”  
   
“I know you’re not really standing there thinking I won’t take care of you,” Sebastian murmurs. “Not when you were so good. You know I will.”  
   
Chris nods, and finally,  _finally_ Sebastian kisses him, two or three slow, sensuous passes of his lips, and then he pulls away and Chris whimpers.  
   
“Pick up your jacket, and come with me,” Sebastian says, taking his hands off Chris and moving out of his space. He starts walking towards the bedroom without waiting for Chris to respond.  
   
Chris hadn’t realized he’d dropped the jacket on the floor. He exhales to steady himself, even though it doesn’t work, and bends down to grab it before stumbling after Sebastian. He catches up as they reach the end of the hall, and Sebastian shuts the door behind them. The way he’s looking at Chris is almost too intense to handle; his eyes hungry and his lips shiny from sliding them over Chris’s neck. He comes forward a few steps and takes the jacket from Chris’s hands, slipping it on over his own bare chest. It hangs off him, his shoulders a bit narrower than Chris’s. Then he reaches out to undo Chris’s bow tie and puts that on himself too, drooping against the hollow of his throat without a collar to hold it up. His skin is tanned and smooth and the teal of the jacket looks so nice against it, but Chris is too strung out to even appreciate it properly.  
   
“Get undressed,” Sebastian says to him.  
   
“Seb.” Chris is whimpering again, small and pitiful, arousal still coursing thick through his veins and emotions close to the surface and choking him. Chris had been too focused on other things until just now to notice how draining it was, having the toy in him all day long, moving with his body, keeping Sebastian close to him the whole time. He knows that’s what this really was. Sebastian’s way of going with him, of claiming him, when the time hasn’t yet come when Chris could take him as his date.  
   
“What’s wrong?” Sebastian asks softly, holding Chris’s face in his hands and rubbing his thumb under Chris’s eye.  
   
Chris shakes his head, because nothing’s wrong, and at the same time everything is wrong. “Kiss me, please?”  
   
“Couldn’t ever say no to that.” Sebastian’s lips slide against Chris’s, unhurried and loving, and it grounds Chris back in the moment when he’d started to spin out of it a little bit.  
   
“I love you,” Chris whispers to him.  
   
“I know. Me too.” Sebastian kisses him one more time, and then playfully smacks his ass. “Get naked, Prince Charming.”  
   
Chris follows the order, squirming under his skin as Sebastian watches him unbutton his shirt and slip it off, looking caught halfway between fond and ravenous. When he’s down to his boxers, Sebastian steps back into his space and helps him, letting Chris hold onto him as he steps out of them. His cock juts out between them, wet from what he’d been leaking into his underwear. Sebastian looks down and Chris is screaming internally, begging silently for Sebastian to touch him, but he doesn’t. Sebastian licks at Chris’s bottom lip and takes it between his teeth, hands warm and strong on his bare hips.  
   
“Turn around,” Sebastian whispers. “Bend over, let me see it.”  
   
Chris shivers, little electric jolts running down his spine. He turns, and rests his hands on the mattress below him, spread out for Sebastian. It’s thrilling and scary at the same time, being on display like this.  
   
Sebastian’s hands part his ass cheeks, thumbs dipping in to press on the end of the plug. He blows out a breath that sounds overwhelmed, and there is reverence to his voice as he says, “look at you. Fuck, that’s pretty.”  
   
“Seb,” Chris breathes, as the plug is pressed again and it rubs him inside, slicked by Sebastian’s come that’s still in there from this morning.  
   
“Doesn’t hurt, does it?”  
   
Chris shakes his head and lets it hang between his arms. “No. Just fucking … full.”  
   
“Filled right up with me,” Sebastian agrees. He takes the end of the toy and moves it, fucking it gently in and out of Chris, not pulling it out all the way but intentionally pressing against the spot inside him that’s already abused.  
   
Chris cries out, the air punched out of his lungs, and his arms shake with the effort of not collapsing onto the bed.  
   
Sebastian pats his hip. “Get on your back.”  
   
Chris scrambles up the bed, resting his head on the pillows and staring with bleary eyes as Sebastian unzips his jeans and removes them and his underwear, and strokes his own hard cock a few times. The exposed shiny head slides in and out of his fist and Chris still can’t breathe properly. Sebastian leaves the velvet jacket on as he crawls onto the bed as well, settling between Chris’s spread legs. He leans over, smearing kisses to Chris’s hipbones, still maddeningly avoiding his cock but pressing soft words into his skin.  
   
“You looked so beautiful. You always do, but. Looked so fucking good tonight, babe. Felt like a damn teenager with a crush, my heart skipped a beat every time the camera was on you.”  
   
“Sebastian.” Chris reaches for his head, moving trembling fingers over short brown hair. Sebastian’s hair is shorter right now than Chris likes it, for the movie he’s about to start shooting. He’s always gorgeous but Chris likes when his hair is longer and tousled. It’s so soft, and Chris loves putting his fingers in it.  
   
Reaching back between his legs, Sebastian takes the end of the toy again. “Hitch your legs up.”  
   
Chris does, bending himself so Sebastian has better access. The toy slowly slides all the way out of him, and Chris shudders as the thicker end passes over his sensitive rim.  
   
Sebastian swears softly, like it’s a prayer. He tosses the toy aside. His come starts to leak out, and he scoops it up with two fingers and slides it back inside, and Chris moans.  
   
“Fuck, fuck, Seb.” Every muscle in his body clenches and releases in a wave. His fingers slip in easy, Chris loose and open, and his skin is so overworked and oversensitive and Sebastian’s fingers are warm and they bend to rub along Chris’s inner walls.  
   
“Nobody would’ve known,” Sebastian is saying, in a quiet, worshipful voice. “You looked so gorgeous, so stunning in this jacket, making your eyes look so blue, and everyone was so captivated by you, but they didn’t know. They didn’t know underneath that fancy suit you were stretched open, that you had me in you, walkin’ around on all those red carpets with me there with you. But I knew, baby. I knew what we did this morning, I knew you let me bend you over the kitchen table and come in you and plug it up so it could stay there all day.”  
   
“Please,” Chris begs. His legs shake as Sebastian’s fingers move slowly inside him, through the slippery mess he’d left there, petting over Chris’s skin. It nearly hurts, and Chris squeezes his eyes shut.  
   
Sebastian bends his head down and sucks the head of Chris’s cock into his mouth without warning, and a ragged sob rips from Chris’s throat. Sebastian slides his lips over Chris, his tongue moving in perfect swirls and the suction perfect and devastating and Chris’s every nerve ending is on fire.  
   
When Sebastian pulls off, he licks at his own leftover saliva, his tongue hot and wet on Chris and his breath warm against Chris’s abdomen. “Want me to eat my come out of your ass? Lick that loose little hole until you’re begging me to let you come? Or you want me to fuck you, slide right back in where I belong, fill you back up?”  
   
Chris can’t answer, the room around him is spinning too fast. He just moans helplessly.  
   
Sebastian doesn’t wait for him, and makes the decision for him. The blunt head of his cock pushes against Chris, pulling at his rim, sinking slowly into him, inch by torturous inch. Chris is gasping loud in his own ears, ragged inhales that sound like he’s dying, and he is a little bit, panting and sweating by the time Sebastian bottoms out and Chris is full again. Sebastian is right, about how much he loves this. Chris fucking  _loves_ it, loves being filled up and claimed. His hips are lifted and put back down on top of Sebastian’s knees so they’re tilted to change the angle, and with soft hands Sebastian guides Chris’s legs to loop around his waist. He crawls forward on his hands, planting them next to Chris’s shoulders and leaning down to kiss him.  
   
Chris clings to him, unable to move or breathe properly or even think, just pliant and useless underneath Sebastian, his mouth hanging halfway open as Sebastian dips his tongue into it.  
   
“Tell me what it felt like,” Sebastian requests, his voice raspy. He drags his hips back, sliding his cock out and back in so slowly.  
   
“Please,” Chris whispers again, his vision going sparkly around the edges and his head spinning. His cock throbs painfully against his stomach. He needs to come so badly, he’s needed it for hours how and being strung along that edge left him agitated and exhausted and ruined.  
   
“Tell me,” Sebastian repeats, in a lower voice this time; an order instead of a request. Chris blinks up at him, finding his blue eyes nearly black but flashing in a way that says it isn’t an option for Chris to ignore him again. “Tell me, and I’ll let you come.”  
   
“Fuck,” Chris grunts. His eyelids flutter closed as Sebastian grinds into him, cock rubbing against Chris’s prostate and lighting him up inside. “Felt so intense, Seb. I could feel it every time I moved, pressin’ into me. Felt like you put a fucking brand on me, like I was walking around belonging completely to you.”  
   
“Mine,” Sebastian growls at him.  
   
“All yours,” Chris promises him, and Sebastian smashes his lips into Chris’s and fucks him, rough and hard and quick, hips snapping forward, his cock driving into Chris, unrelenting like a hurricane. Chris cries out and hangs onto him, fingers gripping the velvet jacket. Sebastian crashes into his prostate, and Chris tips over the edge so quickly, falling apart and spilling onto his stomach. It spreads to his extremities, heat and electric currents coursing through him and lasting forever, endless waves of it. He melts into the mattress when it finally slows, and Sebastian kisses him and thrusts into him until he comes too, adding more inside Chris, claiming him on top of the claim he’d already left there.  
   
Chris spins a little as he comes down from it, like drifting slowly back to earth on a cloud. Sebastian moves, sitting up for long enough to take the jacket off and drop it gently to the floor, and then pulls Chris into his arms and pets his hair until Chris can breathe properly again.  
   
“All mine,” Sebastian murmurs to him, lips pressed to his forehead, still possessive but sweeter about it now.  
   
Chris hums his agreement, still a little floaty, and centered with Sebastian’s arms around him. “Scott figured it out.”  
   
“Oh.” Sebastian groans, and laughs. “Oh God. Okay, well I can never look him in the eye again.”  
   
“He likes you.” Chris smiles against Sebastian’s chest. “Likes that you make me happy.”  
   
“I make you happy?” Sebastian asks, but he doesn’t need to, he already knows the answer.  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
With another kiss to his forehead, Sebastian replies, “good.”

**Author's Note:**

> [come talk to me on tumblr if you want!](http://paper-storm.tumblr.com/)


End file.
